20 Minutes With
by Lucinda
Summary: A series of 20 minutes with BtVS Characters.  Each chapter is a seperate 20 minute response, and a seperate ficlet.
1. Forrest: Falling Into Temptation

Author: Lucinda  
  
Rating: pg13  
  
Contains suggestive behavior and a few bad words.  
  
Distribution: Jinni, Paula, Cat – anyone else just ask.  
  
Disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to Forrest, Faith, or Sunnydale.  
  
Main characters: Forrest Gates, Faith  
  
Response to Jinni's 20 minutes with Forrest challenge.  
  
5: 38  
  
Forrest blinked, wondering if he'd somehow managed to miss the dark haired girl in the past few months that he'd been in Sunnydale. She wasn't particularly tall, but he moved like she was, as if she was the biggest, toughest person in the club as she twisted and danced tot he music. Leather pants hugged her legs, skimmed so closely over her that he knew that there was nothing between her and her leather. She was sexy, she was confident... He just hoped that she wasn't underage.  
  
Offering up a feeble hope, he started across the floor, certain that he was going to talk to her no matter what. Finally, he reached the area where she whirled and bumped, her hair whipping in the face of anyone who dared come to close.  
  
"Hey. Need someone to dance with?" As lines went, it was bad. He knew that it was bad.  
  
There was a confidence in her eyes as she looked at him, and a fine sheen of sweat gleamed over her skin, highlighting the tattoo encircling her arm. Her tongue slid over her lips in what might have been intended as seduction, it was clear temptation "Are you offering to dance with me?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Her eyes roamed over him, and he could almost feel the heat of her gaze wash over him. It was intense, almost predatory. With a smile, she reached out, grasping his shirt to pull him closer. "Let's dance then."  
  
The feeling of her dancing with him, her hands skimming his body, her hips brushing against him, her hair connecting with his chest, his arms, his neck... It was temptation and heaven rolled into one.  
  
"Who are you?" He murmured, uncertain of the fiery temptress would even hear him over the pulse of drums and blare of the music.  
  
She turned, her breasts pressing against him as her arms encircled his neck. Lifting onto her toes, she leaned forward, whispering into his ear. "I'm Faith."  
  
Forrest made a little noise, not quite growl or moan, and kissed her, hoping that she was flirting as much as it felt like she was. Hoping that he wasn't about to get hammered for being a pushy bastard.  
  
Instead, her lips parted beneath his, and her tongue brushed over his, teasing, tasting, demanding that he move closer, that he open to her. Demanding more. Her hands played over his back, exploring muscles and firing his nerves into near bliss.  
  
Eventually, the kiss broke, to catcalls and whoops from the onlookers. He was glad that nobody could see him blushing in the darkness of the club, and grinned at her. "Now what?"   
  
"How about we go back to my place?" Her words were purred out as her fingers trailed over his collarbone.  
  
As Forrest turned to follow her from the club, he spared a moment to hope that she wasn't some sort of Hostile, not a vampire or demon intent on killing him. Then again, if things got quite as heated and intense in the privacy of her place as they had been on the dance floor, he wasn't certain that he really cared. All he could do was hope, and have faith. Actually, maybe it would be more accurate to say that he was hoping to have Faith?  
  
Oh yeah, he was a man easily tempted into all sorts of things. Tiffany, Aura, Bev, Candy, Shelly... all his lovely, passionate exes. The military and then the Initiative. And now, he was being tempted by Faith. Honestly, it looked like falling could be fun.  
  
"There she is! Let's teach her who runs this town." The snarled words had a slight distortion, as if something wasn't quite right with the speaker.  
  
Turning, Forrest saw a pair of vampires glaring at Faith, their yellow eyes almost glowing in the dim light as the one smacked a baseball bat into his hand with soft thumps.  
  
"Yeah, let's show her that this is our town." Bat-boy growled, sounding like a bad imitator of the hired thugs of crime movies.  
  
"Damn it all, I was trying to pick up a guy!" Faith glared at them, unphased by the sharp teeth or the yellow eyes.  
  
"Die!" The one with the bat lunged, and Faith twisted, her foot sending him into the wall beside Forrest as the other one tried to catch her by her long hair. Forest grabbed the bat that had fallen from the first vamp and slammed it into the back of the slightly stunned vampire's head. It might not kill him, but if it could keep him down for a little bit... Faith had pulled a sharp bit of wood from somewhere, and part of him was really curious where on earth it could have been hidden. Moments later, the vampire in front of her was falling to dust as she pulled the stake back out of his chest, and she spun, the stake half raised.  
  
"He's down, for the moment." Forrest gestured, stepping aside so that she could stke the second.  
  
"Good. Still want to go to my place, even after the interruption?" She sounded a bit tired, and as if she half expected him to run.  
  
Chuckling, Forrrest leaned forward, touching her cheek. "Still sounds good to me, Faith."  
  
"Wicked." She smiled, and pulled him close, kissing him again. "Follow me."  
  
5:58.  
  
End Falling into Temptation. 


	2. Angel: Into the Sea

author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg  
  
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to Angel or COnnor. Ariel, King Triton, and all other recognizable mer belong to Disney's 'the Little Mermaid', based on the fairy tale recorded by Hans Christian Anderson.  
  
distribution: Twisting, if anyone else wants it, just ask.  
  
note: 20 minutes with Angel response. (plus a bit of time for spell-checking.)   
  
Aria giggled to herself as she swam through the water. Her parents could be so stuffy sometimes. Didn't they know that she would be careful? Didn't they know that she knew how to take care of herself?  
  
Hadn't the past three centuries of family history taught them that the line of King Triton, who was her great, great grandfather, couldn't live a boring life if they tried? If it wasn't Sea Witches, there were in-laws and squabbling nobles. There were fishing boats and divers to dodge. But really, that's why they were mer, because they were smart and agile enough not to be caught.  
  
A large metal ball dropped through the water, the ripple of it's sinking jarring her.  
  
"What was that?" Aria blinked, her curiosity, something that she'd inherited from her Grandma Ariel, getting the best of her. Swimming closer, she discovered that there was a tiny window. Inside, there was a man, a human man. He'd been in some sort of a fight, and apparently the winner had tossed him into this metal shell and dropped him into the water. Into the water to die.  
  
That wouldn't do at all. Aria managed to redirect the fall, sending it down near a place where there was an large air pocket. She'd discovered the pocket a few years ago, on a dare from her cousin. But it would be good for this man, this air breathing human.  
  
She managed to get the ball into the cavern, and paused. How could she get the metal prison out of the water, so that the human inside wouldn't drown when it opened? How could she open it anyhow?  
  
After a few minutes, Aria managed to thread some chains along the rocks, and between the leverage and the fact that the air inside made the metal prison more bouyant that it would have been otherwise, she was able to lever it up to a small ledge. It was still partly in the water, but not submerged. Climbing upwards, she tried to figure out how to open it.  
  
There was a chain, and some locks over a section, and she began to poke at the locks with a slender bit of metal. With a click, she managed to pop the lock open.  
  
He must have been awakened by the clattering of all the chains, because when she opened the hatch, he was looking at her, his eyes filled with questions.  
  
"Who..? Did Connor send you? Where am I?" He sounded as if he was trying to deny what had happened.  
  
Giggling, she looked at him, pleased to see that he was fairly handsome, for a human. "I'm Aria, of course. I found you when this metal ball almost hit me."  
  
"Found me? But... the ocean?" He looked confused, and stood up, reaching for the hatchway.  
  
Aria moved, sliding down the side and back into the water so that he'd have space to come out. She couldn't wait to see his reaction.  
  
His head emerged, swiftly, as if... Could he have simply thrust upwards? What had her mother called it? Yes, jumped. Could humans jump like that? Aria giggled as he looked around, his eyes growing wide with surprise.  
  
"This... this is under water."  
  
"Yes, silly." She couldn't help giggling as she leaned on the edge of the dry ledge. Her tail curled up, and she used it to splash a bit of water onto her back.  
  
He looked over at her and froze. "A mermaid? I've been rescued by a mermaid?"  
  
"Yes. I'll still have to ask the Sea King what to do with you, but you aren't trapped in that anymore." She said, gesturing at his metal prison.  
  
"That's definitely an improvement." He sighed. "From a metal ball to fairy tale. Why me?"   
  
end In the Sea. 


	3. Doyle: Brooding Champion 2

Author: Lucinda  
  
Rating: pg  
  
Main Character: Doyle  
  
Disclaimer: Doyle is the creation of Joss Whedon, Batman and Robin (and all that other Gotham City stuff) are the creations of DC Comics.  
  
Distribution: Jinni, Paula, anyone else just ask.  
  
Note: 20 minutes with Doyle response.  
  
11: 48  
  
ALAN FRANCIS DOYLE. The voice seemed to come from everywhere, shaking his very bones.  
  
"err.. yeah?" Doyle blinked, wondering how he'd come to be sort of standing in the middle of a pale gray expanse of nothing. No sky, no ground, just... grayness. Hadn't he just died in a blaze of excruciating agony?  
  
WE ARE NOT FINISHED WITH YOU. The voice came again, implacable, emotionless.  
  
"There's a small matter.... Y'see, I'm pretty sure that I died back there." He looked around, feeling as if he was turning in a circle, his eyes sweeping over the empty grayness.  
  
THAT CAN BE WORKED AROUND. YOU WILL CONTINUE AS A SEER, BUT WITH A NEW CHAMPION, IN A NEW PLACE. And with that, there was a twisting sensation, and everything faded into darkness.  
  
Doyle blinked, realizing that he was elsewhere. He felt as if he was laying on something cold, hard, and not quite smooth, and there was this faint squeaking noise from overhead. Slowly, he sat up, discovering that he was in a large cave. To the right of him was a sleek black car with prominent fins on the back, and what looked like a rocket. Overhead, a matching plane was suspended, a scattering of real bats clinging to the supports.  
  
"Where in the world?" Carefully, he walked towards the car, wondering if he was actually alive again, or if he was some sort of ghost now.  
  
"Hey! Who are you, and how did you get in here?" The voice came from a boy, maybe fourteen years old, dressed in the most astonishing outfit that he'd ever seen outside of a circus. Tights, a pair of gloves, a cape... He even had a small mask. Something about the boy nagged at his memory, as if he felt like he should recognize him from somewhere.  
  
"I'm Doyle. I'm thinking I'm supposed to be here." He ran one hand over his hair, and glanced down at his shirt, feeling slightly... well, more than slightly rumpled.  
  
"Why do you say that?" The voice came from a tall shape, a bit of shadow cloaked in black, with a mask that looked remarkably like the silhouette of a bat. He oozed brooding and danger much the way Angel had.  
  
For a moment, Doyle debated asking if the bat-guy was another vampire. Hadn't he had enough to do with vampires already? But no, that wouldn't be the best way to start things. "Some voice told me that I was supposed to be the Seer for a Champion. Next thing I know, here I am."  
  
"And you're going along with that?" The boy seemed doubtful, as if the whole thing made no sense to him.  
  
Doyle shrugged, pleased to discover that he didn't seem to have any bruises, aches, residual headaches or anything else troubling him. "Considering that the last thing before that was my very own painful death... I wasn't inclined to argue."  
  
"You died?" The looming man in black asked.  
  
Doyle shrugged, trying not to look too closely at those memories. "I think so. Painful light, a bomb... I'm pretty sure that I died."  
  
The boy moved, his outstretched hand passing right through Doyle's chest without any resistance. Doyle felt a moment of warmth flow through his middle, almost like drinking a shot of strong whiskey. "Well... I guess that I'm still dead."  
  
"Holy... He's a ghost! Batman, what do we do about a ghost?" The boy was backing away, looking rather alarmed, or at least, as much as you could look alarmed with a mask on.  
  
Doyle sighed, looking again at his outfit. "Does that mean that I'm stuck in this forever?"  
  
The looming figure that had been called Batman looked over, his lips twitching in an effort not to smile. "So, what does a Seer do, and why do I merit one?"  
  
"A Seer... well, they See. I get... The way it worked before was that I got visions of the future, things that should be prevented, people that need to be saved. I then tell my Champion - used to be a guy called Angel, broods about as much as you. Anyhow, I get a vision, tell the Champion, and the Champion goes out, saves the victims, defeats the bad guys, and generally saves the night."  
  
"I thought that was supposed to be saves the day?" The boy asked, looking as if he was calming down a little.  
  
"Not for Angel. Definitely night for him. And it looks like it'll be night time for this guy as well - the outfit doesn't say sunshine and good cheer." Doyle smiled, and then froze, realizing how much like Cordelia he'd sounded. Oh, now that was just a bit much, wasn't it? Hopefully, he wouldn't have as many problems with demons and vampires here.  
  
"Oh. So, you get visions? Like a fortune teller?" The boy sounded curious.  
  
"Less controlled. I can't try to see your future, but... I might get a warning that there's going to be an attack on a woman crossing Main and Seventh street. Hopefully without the killer headaches." He sighed, and wondered just what sort of limits this ghost thing came with. "So, where am I?"  
  
"Gotham City." There was a trace of amusement in Batman's voice. "Specifically, the bat-cave."  
  
"Ahhh, wonderful. I was just starting to get used to a detective agency in Los Angeles, and now I'm on the other side of the country. Ah well."  
  
Just then, a red telephone lit up as it rang. Batman glanced at the boy, and pointed towards the car as he moved to answer the phone. "What's the trouble, Commissioner Gordon?"  
  
Doyle sighed, now certain that things would continue to be interesting. Lucky him.  
  
12:09.  
  
End Brooding Champion #2. 


	4. Darla: Chance Encounters

author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg13  
  
main characters: Darla  
  
also appearing: Kate the Slayer (Original character), Nathaniel Essex (property of Marvel Comics)  
  
Disclaimer: Kate and her Watcher are mine, Darla was created by Joss Whedon for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Nathaniel Essex belongs to Marvel Comics.  
  
Distribution: Luba if she wants it, Paula, Jinni - anyone else just ask first.  
  
notes: 20 minutes with Darla response. Set in 1870, which is the year after Darwin published his book 'On the Origin of the Species.', which introduced the theory of evolution.  
  
Darla snarled as she rubbed her shoulder. London was supposed to be relatively safe. The damn Watcher's Council was based here, this should have been the last place to find a Slayer. After all, they should have assumed that no demon or vampire would dare try anything so close to them, so close to the 'most dreaded foe'. Of course, the truth was that the Waters weren't that dreaded. There were many foes far more troublesome than a bunch of old men and their books.  
  
Like this Slayer.  
  
The girl lunged towards her, dark eyes narrowed as she glared right back. The Slayer didn't have fangs, but she looked every bit as dangerous as Darla.  
  
Of course, to an outsider, neither of them looked that dangerous. A pair of pretty young women, one barely sixteen, the other somewhere in her twenties. Both clad in nearly proper clothing, modest dark hued skirts and loose sleeved blouses, their hair pulled up to fall in curls down their backs. Blond and dark hair, they almost could be a study in contrast. Slightly down the street, a man in a suit watched them, his breath caught as they fought.  
  
No human should be capable of movements like that. They threw each other through the air, and fists left bricks crumbling. It should have been impossible.  
  
But he was right there to see it all, and Nathaniel Essex had confidence in his eyesight. Which left him wondering HOW they could do this.  
  
"You shouldn't have come to London." The Slayer's words were hostile.  
  
Darla simply shrugged, knowing that an appearance of calm would aggravate her foe. "I used to know a man who lived here."  
  
"Did you kill him?" Anger was over all of the Slayer's face, flashing in her eyes, turning her cheeks pink and making her hand shake just a bit.  
  
"Actually, no." She kicked out, hearing her skirt rip. "I didn't have to."  
  
Gunfire rang out, and Darla's shoulder jerked back as the bullet punctured her flesh. Growling, she glanced over to see what was most likely the Slayer's Watcher charging towards them with a smoking pistol. "Changing the odds, girl?"  
  
"Strike now, Kate!" He demanded, his hands fumbling as he tried to reload his weapon.  
  
"Prepare to die!" The Slayer lunged with her stake.  
  
Darla twisted out of the way, hissing as the motion pulled at her bleeding shoulder, hearing her sleeve tear from the stake. She pushed at the Slayer's back, sending her into the wall. "Not tonight, girl."  
  
Swiftly, she ran, not liking the odds. Watchers using guns... that sort of modern innovation was troubling. If they changed with the times instead of keeping to their outdated notions of proper behavior, they could actually become dangerous. And since the Watcher was apparently willing to support his Slayer... No, Darla didn't like those odds at all.  
  
Unnoticed, the man in the suit began to walk away, murmuring to himself. "Such a display of strength... It should have been impossible. It is impossible... No human being is capable of that. Medicine has shown that... Unless... unless... What if... Darwin did argue that evolution is an ongoing process. If such a process is even now occurring, and extends as well to humans as well as beasts and birds, then... could those girls... could they be the future of humanity?"  
  
The Slayer Kate left with her Watcher, rubbing at her bruises as she tried to explain her night. Her Watcher, having finally reloaded his pistol, tried to reassure her that it would be alright that one vampire had gotten away. After all, she probably wasn't that dangerous by herself, and she would almost certainly come back to try again. They would simply have to be ready when the time came.  
  
Darla gave the Watcher little thought, simply concluding that London wasn't worth the hassle. The Slayer would fall soon enough, and Europe was sounding better anyhow. She could rejoin her childe, and leave the country soon enough. Everything would be just fine.  
  
And in the heart of Nathaniel Essex, an obsession with genetics, evolution, and finding an explanation for such a radical change from the norm of a species grew. Eventually, this obsession would change his life forever.  
  
Darla knew none of this, and probably wouldn't have cared. After all, how important could one man be?  
  
end Chance Encounters. 


	5. Forrest: Reasons Why

Author: Lucinda

Rating: pg 13, for a few bad words and mentions of sex, violence, and demons.

Main character: Forrest Gates

Disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to Forrest (created by Joss Whedon) or to the Froggs, Santa Carla, Starr and David, all featured in the movie 'Lost Boys'.

Distribution: Jinni, Paula, anyone else ask first.

Notes: 20 minutes with Forrest, slightly AU for Lost Boys.

11:46

Forrest closed his eyes as Professor Walsh started the briefing, explaining yet again that vampires were real, that it was their solemn duty to capture them. That they were defending innocent people from monsters that they didn't even want to admit existed. That they were this town's only defense, implying that other military operations like this were the only defense.

It sounded terrifying and impressive. It also wasn't precisely true. Oh, they were defending Sunnydale, and there were vampires elsewhere, probably other demons as well. But he knew about the vampires as a fact.

Forrest Gates had grown up in a beach town called Santa Carla, after all. They had an amusement park, a heavy tourism trade, and a staggering death rate. They'd called it the Murder Capital of the World.

It had been a sort of morbid arrogance, actually. And the result of the vampires that had made the city and the cliff-side caves their home. The vampires that preyed on the town, feeding on the tourists. So many bodies found drained along the beach, so many people who vanished, never found, never seen again... at least, not by anyone who lived to speak of it.

He could still remember the night that it had all become terribly clear. He'd always known that it was dangerous at night, that things weren't safe. Always seen the posts and walls festooned with posters asking 'have you seen this boy/man/girl/woman' But he'd never quite admitted the reason, never quite put the bits together to form the whole truth.

And then, his freshman year, when his parents had slipped away for the weekend, he'd crept out of the house, gone to the carnival. She'd been there, all dark hair and chiming jewelry, sparkling gauze and sad, tragic eyes. He'd wanted her so badly, filled with the hopes and lusts and fantasies of any other teenager. He'd followed her, been completely bedazzled by Starr and her soft voice, her words of fearful hope, how she saw in him 'a new chance, a way out'. A way out from a frightening boyfriend.

She hadn't mentioned the part where David was a vampire. Or the part where his gang of domineering near psychotic motorcycle fans were vampires. She hadn't mentioned the part where she was a vampire either, for that matter.

He'd nearly been eaten alive by that woman. Almost literally, she'd had these sharp teeth... He still had the thin lines over his shoulder where they'd grazed his skin. She'd seduced him, lured him away, nearly killed him. He had never quite been able to figure out why she hadn't drained him then, why she'd just... darted off into the depths of the cave. But he'd seen the teeth, could feel the tiny trickle of blood down his shoulder, over his chest.

David had tried to come after him then, tried to kill him for touching Starr. Tried to kill him for the audacity, for the amusement of it.

Thank God for the arrival of the Froggs. Not a pair of slime coated amphibians, but a pair of guys who were the co-owners of a comic store on the boardwalk. Comic store owners by day, vampire hunters by night... They'd saved his life.

It was the sort of thing that left a strong impression on a guy.

They'd managed to drive David away, killed a pair of his gang, and got him to the hopefully safe basement of their store. And after a huge lecture on the dangers of vampires and a couple really tense moments when they'd debated the odds of him being 'contaminated' by them, they'd decided that he was just a victim in all of this. They'd explained to him about vampires, about the ways to spot them and how to kill them.

He'd never been easy at night after that. But he'd been so damn glad when his parents had decided to move away, taking him to some boring, harmless little town inland. He'd attended a different school, floundering through the social circles, and joined the military.

After all, just because he'd been rescued once didn't mean that everyone was that lucky. It didn't mean that he'd always be that lucky himself. So, if he could learn everything that he could about how to defend himself, how to defend other from the same dangers...

It was the only thing that would feel right. It was what the Froggs did. Forrest didn't think that he'd be able to look himself in the mirror if he just turned his back on things, now that he knew. Hide for a while and learn, yes, but he was done hiding. Now, he was a trained soldier. Now, he had weapons, and backup. Now, he could kick vampire ass.

He could save himself now.

And Forrest Gates was determined to save as many others as he could. Which was why he'd joined the Initiative, why he helped train the newer members. It was why he was part of the top hunting unit.

Most likely, he'd have himself an early, and probably painful death because of it. You didn't see very many old heroes, after all. Especially not old demon and vampire hunters. Caressing the stun gun, he smiled. He'd just have to make every night count.

12:06.

end Reasons Why.


	6. Amy: Hello Toronto

Author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg13  
  
main character: Amy Madison  
  
disclaimer: Amy Madison is the creation of Joss Whedon, as are all other references to Sunnydale. Screed and all other Toronto vampires are property of whoever holds the rights to Forever Knight, as is Tracy Vetter.  
  
distribution: Jinni, Paula - anyone else ask first.  
  
note: AU post S3, sometime before Season 6 . Response to Jinni's 20 minutes w/ Amy challenge.  
  
There had been a horrible fight. Willow and some other witch, a girl that she hadn't known before. One of the many things that had happened was that her cage had fallen to the floor, and the sides had popped apart. Cheap construction - really, things theses days...  
  
But she'd taken advantage of the opportunity and fled. It didn't matter to her that Willow and that other witch were arguing, didn't matter that emotions were running high - or rather, it did matter. It scared her half to death, and so Amy was running as fast as her furry rat feet would carry her out. Away from the witches before the burned the house down around her.  
  
She ended up scurrying out of the house, and down the street. Pausing to catch her breath at a bus stop, Amy wondered - why stay in Sunnydale? It was full of evil and dangers, and that other witch had positively reeked of cat. Willow and Giles hadn't been able to make her human again, wouldn't she be safer going elsewhere? When a bus stopped, she scurried along, hidden from view by the old woman muttering and the bored teen with his long stringy hair. It stopped at the main bus station, and she remained there, crouched under a seat. The bus would go somewhere else soon, and she'd be leaving with it.  
  
Goodbye Sunnydale...  
  
and Hello Toronto?  
  
With a mental shrug, Amy managed to keep hidden on the bus until dark, sneaking out when the humans were no longer looking. She would need to find somewhere to hide, away from stray cats and dogs. Twitching her tail, she headed for a sewer grate, and down she went.  
  
"Nice plump looking mousie, aren't you?" There was something wrong with the voice, a funny accent and a slight hiss.  
  
Peering upwards, Amy saw a vampire dressed in tattered clothing, sharp teeth bared as he reached for her. Squeaking, she darted back into the narrow pipe, petrified. She'd figured that she'd have to avoid cars and dogs, but she'd always assumed that the vampires would be too busy going after humans to bother with a mouse. She hated being wrong. Hated it, hated it, hated it....  
  
"Screed, how are you?" Another voice, with a Spanish accent. This guy was much cuter, and dressed better as well, in dark pants and a loose shirt that hugged muscles. Wow...  
  
"Ahhh, Vachon. I'm good." The scary looking vampire smiled, reaching out to clap the handsome one's arm. Like they were friends...  
  
"So why were you glaring at the wall?" He was smiling, almost amused.  
  
"There was this soft, plump little mouse. Probably sweet and tasty... But it ran right back into the wall." He shook his head mournfully.  
  
Amy's nose twitched as she reminded herself that she couldn't attack the vampire - it wouldn't work. She was NOT plump! Really, especially not with all the exercise from that silly wheel...  
  
"Sometimes they just get away. But I'm sure there are plenty of other rats and mice in the sewers."  
  
"True, but that one... The tasty looking ones always run." Screed was walking away with the other one, Vachon?  
  
Quivering, Amy scurried out of the pipes and back to the street. Surely there was a magic shop in this city. Surely she could... And then a thought came crashing down on her. WHY had she been waiting for someone else to fix her problem? Why hadn't she been worrying about a way to de-rat herself? She'd done this, why couldn't she undo this?  
  
Eventually, she found a store that smelled of mingled herbs. She managed to squeeze under the door, although it felt like she'd scraped her back in the process. Breathing in the mingled scents, she looked until she found a large area with some soft pillows, and she crouched there, trying to focus all of her power and intent on being human again. She felt dizzy, and everything went dark.  
  
Opening her eyes, Amy felt almost sick, and cold. Her balance felt off, and she looked at herself, expecting the long tail and the furry flanks. Pale skin with goose bumps met her eyes. She had hands, and hair, and no mouse ears, no tail. She was human again. And a bit naked. Hmmmm, this could be a bit of a problem...  
  
She couldn't just stay here. There had to be a way out. And maybe something to wear? She looked at the store, seeing herbs and oils and books and cards and crystals and feathers and tapes and CD's, but no blankets or shirts.  
  
That was about the time that she heard someone shout 'Police! Freeze!'  
  
Amy closed her eyes, feeling herself blushing. It was almost worth it to get rid of the goose bumps, but not quite. "I think I am freezing."  
  
And so she found herself wrapped in a police blanket and taken to the Toronto police station, arrested by one Officer Tracy Vetter. It was embarrassing, and might lead to quite a few problems, but Amy was smiling. At least there would be no vampires at the police station.  
  
end Hello Toronto. 


	7. Darla: Cold Speculation

author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg13  
  
main characters: Darla  
  
also appearing: Kate the Slayer (Original character), Nathaniel Essex (property of Marvel Comics)  
  
Disclaimer: Kate and her Watcher are mine, Darla was created by Joss Whedon for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Nathaniel Essex belongs to Marel Comics.  
  
Distribution: Luba if she wants it, Paula, Jinni - anyone else just ask first.  
  
notes: 20 minutes with Darla response. Set in 1870, which is the year after Darwin published his book 'On the Origin of the Species.', which introduced the theory of evolution.  
  
Darla shivered as the wind howled outside. Granted, she was a vampire, she couldn't freeze to death as a mortal could, but... She felt cold. And it was cold enough that she was wondering if it was possible for a vampire to freeze through, to turn into a giant icicle that would burst into flames at the dawn. She really doubted that the moment of warmth before turning to ash would be welcome.  
  
There was a tavern ahead, and she headed towards it, leaning against the bitter wind. It would be welcome to sit inside, hopefully in a place warmed by the fire that was spitting fitful smoke out the chimney. She might even be able to find someone to eat in there.  
  
The door stuck slightly, and she slipped inside, pulling it closed behind her. The lack of wind made her stumble, and she headed towards the fire. It was slightly smoky, and the air was filled with the scents of wet wool, smoke, and burned bread, as well as cheap ale and unwashed bodies. But it was warm, and for that, she could forgive all the rest.  
  
She settled on a corner of a bench, beside an older man with a gray grizzled beard and a mug of mulled ale. He glanced at her, and there as something different about his eyes.  
  
It took her a few minutes to figure it out. He had time in his eyes, years turning to decades to centuries in a way that should have been impossible for a human. And he looked at her in an assessing way, not just wondering what she'd look like under all of the layers of clothing, but as if he was considering her as a possible danger. It was altogether quite surprising.  
  
"Hello." She smiled, trying to look cold and harmless. "I'm Darla."  
  
He chuckled, and Darla had the impression that he wasn't quite fooled by her efforts to look harmless. His words had a pleasant Scottish roll to them as he murmured. "Call me MacBeth."  
  
"The night is cold." He sipped at his mug, and his eyes took on a slightly distracted look, as if he was remembering something. "The night is ill suited for man, beast and all else."  
  
"Indeed." Darla smiled, privately wondering what he might mean other than man or beast. "Cold enough to freeze a demon's heart."  
  
MacBeth twitched.  
  
He glanced around, eyeing her warily. "An odd thing for such a pretty lass to say."  
  
"I've been called odd before." She shrugged, wondering just what was prompting his questions, why the man was so wary.  
  
"Such a pity then. A pretty lass such as yourself..." He shook his head. "The cold can't be very welcome, even for someone from the wild Americas like yourself."  
  
"And here I'd heard that Scotland was a wild place." She smiled, glancing up through her eyelashes. "But perhaps it's simply that the places have different risks?"  
  
"Aye, I would imagine so. The New World... it's supposed to be without the same dangers as the Old. And Scotland is very much part of an older world."  
  
"Is there anything that I should try particularly to avoid in this older world?" Darla smiled at him, shifting her knee close enough to touch his.  
  
"Hmmmm." He paused, sipping at his mug. "Avoid the Fae, they're quite real and twice as tricky as the legends paint them."  
  
"The Fae... pah." The words were spat from a shriveled old man with a pipe. "The Fae are just stories. Beware those night demons. With glowing eyes and those wigs.... Flapping through the air like giant bats, out to steal men's souls and devour the crops and cattle."  
  
"What?" Darla blinked, not quite certain what the old man could mean. She glanced at MacBeth, and tried to look helpless and worried. "What does he mean?"  
  
"He's meaning Gargoyles, lass." MacBeth's voice was low, roughened by memories. "Not the fancy waterspouts, but real creatures made of flesh and blood and passions."  
  
"What sorts of passions?" Darla was curious and fascinated. "And... do they... do they attack people?"  
  
"Not often, Darla. Most of them are content to avoid humans, and ye dinna see very many now." He tried to sip at his mug, frowning when it proved to be empty. "But they have as many passions as any human, and some... some of them know how to hate."  
  
Darla caught the eye of a passing waitress, and got two mugs of the mulled ale, handing one to MacBeth. "Are they dangerous?"  
  
"It all depends on which one, lass. It all depends on which one ye run into." He downed a large swallow of his ale, and smiled weakly at her. "I think that I've talked enough, surely you would nae be interested in hearing more of an old man's tales."  
  
Darla watched as MacBeth left the common area, heading up the stairs. She smiled, wondering if she might be able to make some use of his words. If these gargoyles might be useful. And why it seemed as if he felt guilty or responsible for some of that.  
  
end Cold Speculation. 


	8. Cordelia: I Dream of Family

Author: Lucinda  
  
Rating: pg  
  
Main character: Cordelia  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Cordelia (creation of Joss Whedon). I do not own Major Nelson and Jeannie (characters from the 'I Dream of Jeannie' television show.)  
  
Distribution: Jinni, Paula – anyone else ask.  
  
Notes: 20 minutes with Cordelia crossover challenge.  
  
2:11  
  
Cordelia crossed her arms, wishing yet again that she didn't have to be here. That they weren't going on a family trip to visit Grandma and Grandpa Nelson. Her mom's parents were just so... uggh. Okay, Grandpa wasn't quite that bad, he'd been in the air force, and helped test out some new things with airplanes and early space shuttles, but... How in the world had he ended up with Grandma? The woman was just... bizarre.  
  
Of course, Grandma Nelson looked absolutely great for her age. You'd never be able to tell that the woman had given birth and raised five children, not with that flat tummy and her smooth skin. Except for the fact that her hair was almost silver, she could probably pass for twenty something. It wasn't fair... except for the hope that it was something that her mom and therefore herself would inherit.  
  
Of course she still had nightmares from the time when she'd found a pair of harem pants and this little vest in the laundry basket. At first, she hadn't know how they could have gotten there, but when the gradual realization had dawned that these were Grandma's, and that she probably wore them to... ugghh! No, she did not even want to think about that!  
  
Eventually, they made it to the place, pulling into a driveway of what looked like a sleepy little ranch house, with an expanse of gorgeous lawn that flowed in waves under the wind, with bright flowers lining the sidewalk. It looked perfect, like something from a movie, a sad contrast with most of the dried up area. Summer wasn't kind to lawns. But Grandma and Grandpa Nelson's place was always perfect like that.  
  
"Muriel, Richard... so good to see you. And there's Cordelia. My how you've grown!" Grandpa's voice rang out, cheerful, happy.  
  
"I told you, She's going to be wonderful. You'll have to watch out for the young men soon." Grandma's voice was teasing, with the fading traces of some accent that Cordelia had never been able to place.  
  
"Of course." She smiled, and made a slight shrug. "I am Cordelia Chase, after all."  
  
And while her parents talked about dull things like vacations and savings plans, Cordelia wandered inside, looking at the tall curio cabinet along the wall. There were such interesting things inside. A gleaming golden cat statue that looked Egyptian. A long line of carved elephants that started as tall as her hand and ended up the size of her thumb, carved from a single elephant tusk. A set of those nested Russian dolls. An elegant glass bottle in shades of blue, purple and pink.  
  
"Jeannie? Did we have something planned for dinner?" Grandpa's voice rang out, making Cordelia look up.  
  
"Of course we do." There was a gold edged mirror on the wall, showing her Grandmother as she stood in the hall. Grandmother made a sharp nod, her silvered ponytail bouncing. "We have turkey."  
  
Cordelia was about to protest when she realized the house was now filled with the smell of roasting turkey, with stuffing, and potatoes, beans, bread... the whole works. She had no idea how she could have missed the smells before.  
  
"Is there dessert? Maybe something with chocolate?" Cordelia asked, wondering just how many kitchen wonders her grandmother could accomplish.  
  
"Of course there will be dessert, Cordelia. The meal wouldn't be complete without it, now would it?" Her grandmother was smiling, and tucked a strand of pale hair behind her ear.  
  
Cordelia wondered why Grandma Nelson's hair looked darker at the roots than at the ends. Harmony had the same problem, but that was because Harmony dyed her hair blonder. Grandma wouldn't need to do that, and her hair was already gray anyhow. Didn't most people try to dye the gray away? The only explanation would be if Grandma was coloring her hair gray, which wouldn't make any sense at all.  
  
"And how have you been? Your parents said that you had a vacation earlier in Roma?" Her Grandmother's accent had made the city sound almost different, as if it ended with an 'a' instead of an 'e'.  
  
"Rome was interesting. Lots of old buildings, great stores, the food was a bit weird though." She shrugged, wondering how to explain things. "Mom and dad stayed in most of the time, so I got to do a lot of exploring on my own."  
  
"But what... oh. They decided that it should be another honeymoon trip? But then, why wouldn't they have made some arrangements?" Her Grandmother looked as if the news saddened her.  
  
Cordelia shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes I think they'd like to pretend I'm their niece or something... they couldn't be old enough to have a daughter my age... Oh no, not that. Bit it's okay, I know how to handle people." Cordelia tried to smile, tried to make it look as if everything was alright.  
  
"Oh, sweetie..." Her grandmother hugged her, rubbing over her back with one soft hand. "Things will get better for you."  
  
2:31  
  
end I Dream of Family. 


	9. Forrest: Things that Shouldn't Be

Author: Lucinda  
  
Rating: pg13  
  
Main character: Forrest  
  
Disclaimer: Forrest, Riley, ADAM, all things Sunnydale are the creation of Joss Whedon. The Unicorn is the creation of Peter beagle, from his novel (later turned into an animated movie) 'The Last Unicorn'.  
  
Distribution: Jinni, Paula, - anyone else, just ask.  
  
Note: for Jinni's 20 minutes with Forrest, mutated by my daughter trying to sing the Unicorn song while I was working.  
  
6: 17  
  
Forrest wished that he could swear, or curse, or even weep. This... thing that Dr. Walsh had created, this ADAM. It was evil, and wrong in ways that he couldn't even begin to describe. And ambitious, mustn't forget the ambitious. That ambition was actually how he'd come to be here now, learning enough to be horrified, disgusted, shocked... whatever name would best fit the stomach churning mess of emotions.  
  
Not that he could do anything about it. Not since he'd been skewered, slain by something, some sort of demon that seemed to have become part of ADAM. Not since he'd been brought back somehow, turned into another horrible almagation of man, demon, and machine by this insanity. He didn't even know if it had been all ADAM or if there were scientist in cahoots with the creature. But just as ADAM was the first of a nightmarish lineage, he had become the second. Part man, part demon, part machine... unstoppable, maybe even unkillable. And totally obedient to ADAM.  
  
It had to be something in the computer parts, some program, or feedback look... maybe even the behavioral modification research that they'd been doing on the HST's... On demons. On the monsters. Except that they had clearly been dong more than that.  
  
He wanted to die. Again. Anything, as long as he was freed from this miserable existence, from living as a puppet to that... thing. Watching himself do things, taunting Riley about being the future, about this being what Dr. Walsh had intended all the time. What made it worse - it could have been true. This might very well be what she'd intended. The idea would have made him sick if he didn't have a demon stomach now.  
  
And then... Hope. There was a fight, ADAM attacking the Initiative base, with an army of demonic minions. What made things more horrible was the fact that ADAM intended to turn all the casualties into the next wave of his army, a blended, piece-meal creation, neither man nor demons. Standing against him was Riley, and that blond girl - what was her name again?  
  
Buffy Summers, the Slayer. Age nineteen, Freshman, primarily dangerous to vampires. Information surged up from something, maybe the machine parts? Had he had some sort of computer-like memory added?  
  
And then the building was falling, and there were explosions everywhere. Dead bodies of men and demons littered the floor, and he could see Buffy fighting against ADAM. Finally, he could control his own body, act under his own will!  
  
He ran, making his way out the side passage, through the smoke and out one of the exits. He left the door open behind him, in case someone else could try to escape by the same route. Human, demon... nothing deserved to be drafted into ADAM's army.  
  
Slowly, he made his way to the sea, and walked into it. The waves pushed and pulled at him, potentially lethal currents of water. Who knew what they could o to the mechanical parts of him? He walked deeper, resisting the instinct that demanded that he swim, that he do something about the water washing over his chin, up his nose.  
  
Everything swirled and went dark, and he felt like he was floating, spinning around and around.....  
  
Light.  
  
There was bright light everywhere, especially in front of him. Forrest blinked, wondering how he could even feel light, how he could blink. Hadn't he drowned?  
  
The near-blinding light resolved itself into a glorious shape that stood in front of him, paleness contained in sleek grace, four slender legs barely touching the sand, a fall of shimmering mane that brushed the sand, an ivory spiral that dipped down to touch his heart, and the most glorious pair of eyes, rippling like the sky.  
  
A unicorn.  
  
He gasped, filled with awe, the questions washed away by wonder. She moved, giving him space, and he sat up, still staring.  
  
"You should be more careful. But then, you are so like him in many ways. Lir drowned once as well, being foolishly heroic and mortal. I shall hope that you can do as well with a second chance as he did. He remained a hero, ridding the world of terrible ills." Her voice was sweet, like bells and crystal as it echoed in his mind.  
  
"Who was Lir?" The question made only a bit more sense than anything else, and he couldn't tear his eyes from her glorious beauty.  
  
Dancing, she moved back. "He was a man. A good man, a brave man. GO, and live."  
  
She spun on a silver hoof, and raced away, her feet skimming over the incoming waves, faster than mortal flesh could move. But something like that couldn't be mortal, could she?  
  
Glancing down, Forrest froze in wonder. He was whole, and human once more. A man again. A man with a second chance at life.  
  
"My life was taken away by something that shouldn't exist, and given a second chance by something else that shouldn't exist. Who would have thought that this world had room for a unicorn?" He brushed the sand from his torn clothing, and started the slow walk back to Sunnydale.  
  
A second chance. Somehow, he would try to prove worthy of it, of her interest.  
  
6:36.  
  
end Things that Shouldn't Be. 


	10. Angel: Drunken Fool

Author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg 13, some swearing, drinking, a fight.  
  
main character: Angel  
  
disclaimer: Angel is the creation of Joss Whedon, Jonothan and his misadventures belong to the Mummy movies.  
  
distribution: Jinni, Paula - anyone else ask first.  
  
note: 20 minutes with Angel response, set after the Mummy Returns, after the Romany Curse, before the start of BtVS.  
  
11:48  
  
Angel sighed as he slumped a bit more deeply into the shadows at the back of the little booth. It was the darkest corner of the pub, and the place where he was least likely to bee seen. It had less than outstanding bar service for just that reason.  
  
"You just can't understand what it's like. I Was this close." The skinny Englishman made a gesture, his fingers about an inch apart. "That close to treasure beyond your wildest dreams. That diamond... huge. And now it's all gone."  
  
Idly, he wondered if the drunken man had any idea how dangerous that sort of talk could be fore him. Talking about fabulous amounts of gold and diamonds in a pub.... It was practically an invitation to be followed in an effort to beat out the location. He'd actually used the strategy before, when he was still eating people... He shook his head, and took another drink of the bitter alcohol, hoping to numb down the memories.  
  
"You can't be serious. Where would that much gold even be?" The bearded man had a speculative gleam in his eye, one that spoke of the hope of finding that gold for himself.  
  
His hand shook as the drunk - wasn't his name Jonothan? - the drunk man gestured. "Far away, miserable country. Full of dead bodies, sand everywhere... and my God, the curses on the place. It's not worth it. Really."  
  
"What's this about curses?" The little man was at the elbow of the bearded man, and something about his just whispered 'rat' - or maybe 'accountant'.  
  
"Egypt. Sand, curses, those damn beetles..." Jonathan sipped at his drink, grimacing at the taste.  
  
"I thought it was the land of mummies?" The bearded man's question sounded harmless.  
  
"Never bring up the mummies! Leave them to rot away in their damn tombs, never let them out! Never let them out, it's a terrible mistake." Jonathan glared, his whole body tense.  
  
"err... right." It was obvious that the bearded man thought that Jonothan was just a raving drunk. Possibly even a delusional one.  
  
Jonothan dropped some money on the bar, and staggered as he stood up. "I think... that's enough for me. Good evening."  
  
Angel sighed, and decided that it might be good to follow the man. He certainly seemed rather worse for the alcohol, and even if he wasn't, he probably wouldn't be very good ad defending himself. Besides, he'd been feeling restless anyhow.  
  
He tried not to feel smug as he followed Jonothan. It was no great feat to stalk someone that drunk, and if he was as much the impractical idle-rich as he'd seemed, then he probably wouldn't have noticed even sober. But he just had the feeling that the bearded man might try something.  
  
"You didn't tell me what I really wanted to hear." Beard-man's voice rang in the empty street.  
  
Jonothan stopped, looking around in obvious puzzlement. "What's that?"  
  
"Where's the gold? How much gold? And will I need my own damn train line to get it out?"  
  
"It's under the sand now. Valley... Oasis of Ammmm.... Amon-Sherry. No, Sherry's a drink. Sher." Jonothan peered at the man, his eyes not quite focused. "But it's not safe."  
  
"I don't think it'sll be that much trouble. We'll jus plan ourselves a little expedition."  
  
A trio of large men stepped out, looking ready to pummel Jonothan into talking. They were large, with vicious smiles and dull eyes - minions, thought human ones.  
  
"Now, here's where someone's going to have to step in. The odds just aren't fair anymore." Angel stepped out of the shadows. "Tell you what, just to make things a bit more sporting, why don't I offer Jonothan - that is your name, right? Why don't I offer Jono here a hand?"  
  
"This doesn't concern you, Irish." Beard glared at Angel, while motioning towards his men.  
  
"I insist." Angel smiled, trying not to let his fangs drop.  
  
In the end, it wasn't a fair fight at all. Jonothan managed to hit one of the men before getting knocked down, while Angel dealt with the thugs easily. The bearded man fled, probably fearing police involvement. Angel took the opportunity to drink from one of them, not enough to kill, but a nice bite.  
  
"Need a hand getting home?" He asked the fallen Englishman, hoping that he hadn't seen anything.  
  
Jonothan lurched upwards, brushing at his wrinkled shirt. "Er, yes, I think that might be good. Thank you."  
  
If he'd realized that he'd end up invited to stay at the ancestral home, he might not have asked. Especially not if he'd known that it would mean listening to stories of a horrible mummy, given vast power by a curse, and the way that Jonothan - with a bit of help from his sister and her husband - had been forced to stop the Mummy Imhotep. The vast hordes of gold that he'd seen - and lost - at each encounter.  
  
Clearly, the Romany weren't as nasty with a curse as they thought. That thing with Imhotep and the eternity as a mummy... It sounded far worse than being a vampire with a soul.  
  
12:08.  
  
end Drunken Fool. 


	11. Fred:  the LadyPhysicist

author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg  
  
main character: Fred  
  
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to Fred, the creation of Joss Whedon for 'Angel: the series'. I hold no legal rights to Inigo and Fessik, characters from the book/movie 'the Princess Bride'.  
  
distribution: Jinni, Paula - anyone else just ask.  
  
notes: this takes place before the pair meet up with Wesley and Buttercup, and instead of Angel & Co rescuing her.  
  
11:11  
  
She stretched, her shoulder still aching from sleeping on the few furs placed over the uneven stone. It wasn't a very good bed, although she could hardly remember beds most of the time. Everything from before was fading away, replaced by memories of this plae, of her cave, of all the reasons why she remained hiding here.  
  
Carefully, she picked up a charred stick from her fire, and moved towards a clean section of wall. Tucking her hair back, she began to review the theory of particle movement, and of the calculations for light speed. It was almost interesting enough to make her forget about everything else, to forget that she was hiding for her life and freedom in this cave, to forget the demons out there.  
  
"Pardon, but do you happen to know where this place is?" A man's voice called, distracting her. He had a bit of an accent, one that she couldn't quite place, but it made her think of home, of earth, not Texas.  
  
She looked over, her eyes focusing on the strange man. He had dark hair and a mustache, and was dressed in slightly worn clothing, far better than anything that humans were permitted in this place. He had a gleaming sword at his waist, and smiled at her.  
  
He was impossible. Maybe he was nothing more than another figment of her imagination, another waking dream of not being alone. Glancing away, she spoke softly, still unconvinced that he was real. "You're in another world, another dimension. I call it hell, they call it Pylea."  
  
"Pylea? That wasn't on the map." He muttered, glancing back and down the slope. "Did that wizard say anything about a place called Pylea?"  
  
"No." This voice was deeper. "He only said that we would go somewhere far away."  
  
Cautiously, she edged closer, peering down to see who or what had spoken. Behind the man with the sword was someone else, a huge man with a cheerful smile. He almost looked too big to be human. "oh."  
  
Seeing her, the giant waved. "Hellow lady."  
  
"Fessik, don't startle her." The first man spoke, his eyes twinkling. "My name is Inigo Montoya. And... we appear to be lost."  
  
"Lost? What are you looking for?" She couldn't help but ask the question.  
  
"A left handed mnan with six fingers. And when I find him, I shall say 'My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my Father. Prepare to die.' Then, I shall kill him, with this sword." He lifted the sword, a gleaming thing with a golden hilt.  
  
"I haven't seen any of those around here. Sorry." She was feeling self conscious, wondering how her mind could have created these figures. But is they weren't figments of her imagination... "Are you real?"  
  
"I think so. Inigo, aren't we real?" Fessik's question was slow, and she wasn't certain if it was because he thought slowly, or if he thought a great del before speaking.  
  
"Certainly we're real." Inigo stood up very straight, and smiled ayt her. "Perhaps you would like to go with us on our journey? You don't appear to be... This doesn't seem like a good place for you."  
  
She glanced at the cave, hidden, tucked far away from everywhere important. It was safe, it was uncomfortable, and she was certain that she was slowly going mad. On the other hand, she would be walking into the unknown with two people that might or might not have even been real. "I think that might be interesting."  
  
"What should we call you?" He was smiling at her again.  
  
"Fred." She whispered the words, glancing at the scorched stick that was still in her hand. "I used to be someone else, someone more, but I've been losing myself here. Loosing who I used to be, the things that I knew. I'm just Fred now."  
  
"Hmmm.... It must be a foreign name." He shook his head, as if dismissing his concern, and offered his arm to her. "Shall we go? We're on a bit of a quest."  
  
"Where are you going next?" She draped her arm over his, deciding that if this was another delusion, she didn't quite care anymore. It was better than being alone.  
  
"I'm still seeking the six fingered man. But perhaps we should find a way out of this place first. I am a swordsman, Fessik is a giant, and you're... what are you, lady Fred?"  
  
"I used to be a Physicist. Well, a graduate student of Physics, anyhow, but I had almost finished my dissertation." She glanced at him, curious what his reaction would be.  
  
"Physics? Is that a type of magic?" He had a small frown, as if he was thinking.  
  
"Close enough, I suppose. It opened a portal to take me here. I'm trying to figure out how it worked so that I can leave. If I manage to open one, we should all be able to fit through." She shrugged, glancing at the smiling giant. "I just don't know where it would open to."  
  
"It will be more adventure." Fessik's deep voice sounded unworried. Maybe that was because few things, even here, would try to attack something so big.  
  
"As long as the demons don't find us. They'll try to put us in collars, and make us work in the fields. They call humans cows here. I don't want to be a cow."  
  
"I should hope not." Inigo looked offended and worried. "Don't worry, we shall make certain that you are safe."  
  
Fred was smiling at they traipsed off deeper into the woods. She wasn't alone, or at least, she didn't feel alone now. She was with Inigo and Fessik, and they had a quest.  
  
11:31  
  
end the Lady-Physiscist. 


	12. Angel: Leap for Science

Author: Lucinda

Rating: pg

Main characters: Dr. Sam Beckett, Angel

Disclaimer: Sam belongs to the creators of the series Quantum Leap; Angel, Harmony, and Wolfram & Hart are the creations of Joss Whedon.

Distribution: Jinni, Paula – anyone else ask.

Note: 20 minutes with Angel response.

11: 19

Dr. Sam Beckett sighed, readying himself to try yet again to get funding. His idea was revolutionary - or insane, depending on who you asked. But the chance to time-travel, even if within the limits of his own lifetime, was too much to pass up. He had the theory, and it seemed sound. All he needed was the funding and a space to try to turn theory into reality.

Of course, everybody that he'd tried so far had turned him down. Most of them had pointed him towards the door before he'd even finished explaining the project. His last hope was in this building - Wolfram & Hart Limited. Once, it had been part of an international law and investment firm, but the Los Angeles branch had split away, and was under the control of someone else, a Mr. A. Aurellius.

He just hoped that he'd at least be able to finish his request. Apparently Mr. Aurellius had quite the reputation for getting rid of people who were trying to cause him problems.

After being directed up to the private office, he fidgeted, and walked towards the personal secretary. She looked young, and blond, and rather ditsy.

"Hi! Do you have an appointment?" She smiled cheerfully at him, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Yes, Dr. Beckett. I have an appointment at four." He tried to remain calm, to conceal his nervousness.

With a sigh, the blond leaned forward, pushing a button on a panel. "Did you have an appointment with some doctor? Beckett? Because he's standing right here, with a briefcase.

:Yes, Harmony. I've been expecting him.: The man's voice sounded tired, or maybe exasperated. :Send him on inside.:

"Oh, fine." Harmony pouted, and then looked up. "Go on in, he'll see you now."

Walking through the door, Sam was pleased to see a spacious office with large panels of glass. The slight hint of blue at the edges told him that it was specially treated - shatter resistant, perhaps? "Mr. Aurellius?"

The man in the chair couldn't have been much past thirty, if at that. Maybe still in his twenties. He looked somber, and attractive, the sort of face that could have provided a career in acting or modeling, not ruthless corporations. "Call me Angel. Sit down, relax. I won't bite." There was a small smile after his words.

"It's good to finally meet you, Dr. Beckett." There was something unsettling in the way his eyes were watching.

"Right. I wanted to ask if you might be willing to provide some funding for a project of mine? I have a theory about time travel... under certain limits and situations."

Angel nodded, as if he already knew this. Perhaps he'd been researching before the appointment, or perhaps the company had a scientific research division to look into such things.

Finally, Sam finished his explanation, and only then noticed a small recording device. "Will you consider funding my project?"

"I've already got some people working on arranging lab space for you." Angel smiled again, one that hinted that he knew something that Sam didn't. "I have every confidence that your project will work, Sam."

"Thank you." Sam didn't know quite what to say, the offer seemed so sudden. He stood up, offering his hand as he tried to keep from dancing and shouting with glee. "Thank you very much, Mr. Aurellius... Angel. Sir."

Months later, Dr. Becket looked at his device, gleaming under the lights. It had come together so quickly, and with so little opposition that he was almost disturbed. Granted, there had been some equipment failures, and a couple problems with staff, but Angel's faith in him had been unwavering.

And now was the moment of truth. The moment when he would discover if Angel's faith was justified, or if this was just a very expensive flight of fancy.

He stepped into the circle where he would hopefully be sent back in time. Taking a deep breath, he looked around, smiling. "Let's do this."

Everything dissolved into blinding blue-white light.

And then he was standing in a hallway, hand reaching out for a doorknob. The door opened, and he blinked, uncertain how he was standing in front of Angel, in what had to be... No, this wasn't the Wolfram & Hart office.

"Gunn? What's wrong?" Angel looked at him, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Err..." Sam blinked, trying to figure out how to explain this.

"Sam! Congratulations, it worked! We managed to find you, you've landed in the body of a man named Charles Gunn, and..." The holographic projection of Al faltered, and he looked around. "I'll pop back in a few moments, as soon as we can figure out what's going on."

"You aren't Gunn, are you?" Angel's voice sounded a bit deeper, more menacing. "Sit down, and explain what's going on. Now."

"Umm... you won't believe me." He tried to excuse himself.

"Okay, My name's Dr. Sam Beckett, and I'm a time traveler from the future..." He started to explain, hoping that he wouldn't end up in an asylum.

11: 39.

end A Leap for Science


	13. Cordelia: Party of Heroes

author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg13  
  
main character: Cordelia Chase  
  
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to Cordelia, the creation of Joss Whedon for the series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'. I hold no legal rights to Tony Stark or Janet Van Dyne, the creations of Marvel's Avengers comics.  
  
distribution: Jinni, Paula - anyone else just ask.  
  
notes: this takes place before Cordelia joined the AI crew.  
  
11:49  
  
Cordelia walked away from the punch bowl, reminding herself that trying to drown that perverted old man in the punch would be a bad move. He'd struggle, which would get punch all over her dress, someone might try to stop her, and then she might end up in jail on top of everything else. And she reminded herself not to frown. This was supposed to be an opportunity to circulate, to try to make a good impression on the right sort of people to get auditions.  
  
Instead, she was having slimy bastards try to get her into bed with them. It was frustrating, and disappointing.  
  
She jerked to a halt, having almost run into a man in an expensive suit that had just been bumped by an angry would-be leading man who was storming away in a sulk. The guy in the suit looked vaguely familiar in the way that means that she'd probably seen his picture somewhere - a lean face, dark hair, a neat mustache.  
  
"Are you okay?" The question just spilled out as she noticed the fact that his color looked a bit gray under his tan, and there were the faint lines round his mouth and eyes that poke of pain.  
  
He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was trying to figure that one out himself. Carefully, he opened his eyes again, and looked down at his left hand, which was clenched into a fist. His words carried the accent of New York prosperity, of wealth, power, and authority. "I think so... now. I wasn't certain for a few moments."  
  
She reached out, brushing a few bits of lint from his suit, the touch confirming that it wasn't just a nice suit, but a really expensive suit. "I hadn't realized that he'd ran into you quite that hard."  
  
"There are other factors." He shook his head, sighing slightly. "I'm going to have to figure out something to make Janet miserable about this. I've seen friendlier smiles at the shark tanks of aquariums."  
  
"Well, there's a lot of competition." Cordelia tried to manage a smile. She'd glanced at his hand, noticing the expensive watch and the complete lack of wedding ring or the indentions and paler band of skin that would indicate he normally wore one. "Is Janet your girlfriend?"  
  
"A co-worker, actually." He sighed, and glanced around the room. "And she's completely vanished, naturally. So much for her assurances that she'd protect me from the crush."  
  
Cordelia tried not to giggle, and almost managed to succeed. "So, you don't sound like you're from the area. Did you relocate, or are you just visiting?"  
  
"Visiting. I had a small business matter, and Janet managed to convince me that I could use a break from work.... I think she just didn't want to walk through the door alone. Something about her public image."  
  
"Ahh." Cordelia nodded, knowing the importance of appearances. "Well, if you aren't having fun, as long as it wouldn't leave her stranded, nobody will notice too much if you don't stay. There's sort of supposed to be a lot of socializing at these things."  
  
"Actually, that doesn't sound to bad, Miss..." He paused, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. "I didn't catch your name."  
  
"Cordelia Chase." She smiled, not offering him one of her carefully professional looking cards. He didn't feel like a movie producer or casting director to her, and she didn't want to seem pushy.  
  
"Well, thank you for the rescue, Miss Chase. It's been a pleasure to meet you." He smiled and headed into the crowd.  
  
He was intercepted by an elegantly dressed woman with short brown hair. She turned, and Cordelia placed her immediately - Janet Van Dyne, noted designer. Wow.  
  
"Tony, you look unhappy. Is the party quite that miserable for you?" She gazed up at him, the height difference making them almost look like a movie poster.  
  
"Mostly. But leaving sounds quite appealing."  
  
They made their way out, and only then did Cordelia place where she'd seen his picture before. Not in the celebrity sections, or the gossip columns, but in the financial news. Tony was Tony Stark, owner of Stark Industries, one of the richest industrialists under forty. And she'd talked to him.  
  
Had he actually meant it when he'd said it had been pleasure to meet her, or were the words only empty courtesy? Either way, he was a welcome change from sleazy come-ons and cool snubs. If only that sort of thing could last - his world was probably much more comfortable than the place where he found herself right now. Not to mention her current apartment...  
  
If she had left a good impression on Tony Stark, then... Maybe he could mention to Ms Van Dyne, or to producers? To someone influential in the entertainment industry? She could only hope.  
  
12:07  
  
end Party of Heroes.   
  
Footnote: Tony Stark is the real name of Iron Man (it's a secret identity). Janet Van Dyne is the Wasp. Both of them are members of the Avengers, the only superhero group to be consistently regarded as heroes by both the Marvel universe's general public and the Marvel Universe's American Government. 


	14. Fred: Hallucinations in Blue

author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg  
  
main characters: Fred and Gonzo  
  
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to Fred, the creation of Joss Whedon for Angel: the Series'. I hold no legal rights to Gonzo, the creation of the Children's Television Workshop/Henson puppetry.  
  
distribution: Jinni, Paula - anyone else just ask.  
  
notes: this takes place before Angel & co rescued Fred.  
  
11:03  
  
Fred blinked, her mind not wanting to process what she saw. There seemed to be something smallish and blue at the mouth of her cave. Moving slowly, she grabbed her glasses and plopped them onto her nose. Snapped into focus, it was revealed to be a blue thing with beady eyes and a large nose that curled under. It was probably about as tall as her hips.  
  
"You aren't real." Her voice rose as she spoke. That thing couldn't be real. It wasn't human, and wasn't Pylean, that meant it had to be a hallucination, right?   
  
The thing moved closer. "What? Of course I'm real!"  
  
"No you aren't." She sat up, crossing her arms. "Nothing that lives here is that size and blue, and I've never seen anything with a nose like that. So you can't be real."  
  
"That's absurd! I'm real." He paused, and one hand came up to touch the offending piece of anatomy. " What's wrong with my nose anyhow?"  
  
Fred giggled a little, her fingers touching her own smaller nose. "It's so big, and it actually curls under at the end."  
  
"Hey!" He sounded offended, and the lower lip began to curl down in a definite pout.  
  
"Well, it is big." She offered, and glanced around, half expecting some other hallucination. "Not that you're really there to be offended."  
  
"Why do you keep saying that?" He moved closer, sitting on one of her rocks.  
  
"None of the wildlife matches you. You aren't human or Pylean. Therefore, you don't exist." She shrugged, picking up a cup with water. "It's simple enough."  
  
"Miss Piggy changed the angle on the cannon." He muttered, the little arms folding petulantly over his chest. "Where am I anyhow?"  
  
"This is Pylea. But I didn't think that you could just get here by a cannon." She sighed, shaking her head again. "All of my calculations say that it's impossible."  
  
"It sent me into Bunsen's lab, and there was a crash, and Beaker meeped, and then I'm in a stream." He shrugged, and pulled off a shoe, then removing the sock to let it fall on the floor.  
  
It landed with a very realistic squelching sound.  
  
"This is the most bizarre hallucination yet." Fred muttered, shaking her head. Maybe she shouldn't have eaten those mushrooms after all...  
  
"But I'm not a hallucination!" The cry had a bit of a warble to it, almost birdlike.  
  
"Of course you are. You're not real. Only the cave is real." She slowly walked over to a section of wall, and picked up a bit of charcoal. "Now, the thrust of the cannon... What size was it? Do you know your velocity at the time you left the barrel?"  
  
"Ahhh... no. But the barrel is two feet across, and twelve feet long. Standard firing charges." He moved closer.  
  
Carefully, she began calculating out the thrust produced, and the resulting velocity of an object that was... hmmm. Glancing at the hallucination, she tried to guess how much it would weigh if he were real. "You'd be moving at about... hmmm."  
  
"You're writing on the walls. With a lump of charcoal." He was staring at her now. "You realize that you're hand is getting sooty?"  
  
"I don't have any paper. And I studied mathematics and physics, not chemistry. I don' know how to make any good paints except for ocher, and there isn't any of that here."  
  
"Right. I'm Gonzo." He looked at her, and made little huffing noise. "Gonzo the Great, almost famous performer."  
  
She continued, trying to calculate the velocity that the object fired would be moving after going through a wall. "Was the wall plaster? And I'm Fred."  
  
"You're crazy... Maybe when they get me out of here, you should come with me? You might even make sense out of some of Bunsen's inventions. Like... Ohhh. I bet I hit that Door in a Jar that he was working on."  
  
"Door in a Jar?" The idea sounded weird. "Like a contained wormhole? The mathematics involved... How does he do it?"  
  
"err... It's a jar with green goop. When it gets thrown against a wall, you get a door." The hallucination called Gonzo shrugged. "I don't know how it works."  
  
"It sounds interesting." She shrugged. If she could leave, a place with blue hallucinations with hooked noses had to be better than here. And if he was just another dream, at least he was something different.  
  
Then, a door opened up in the middle of her calculations of water velocity. "Gonzo? Are you in there?"  
  
Fred blinked, part of her wanting to run and hide, and another part wanting to shriek ad dance. "A door!"  
  
"Yeah, let's go!" Gonzo grabbed her hand, and dragged her through.  
  
Only a pair of wet socks, waterlogged shoes, and walls covered with charcoal scribbling was left to show that anyone had ever been there.  
  
11: 23  
  
end Hallucinations in Blue. 


	15. Anya: Just A Courtesy

author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg13  
  
main character: Anya, Sam  
  
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to Anya, the creation of Joss Whedon for the series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'. I hold no legal rights to Sam, the creation of Henson Puppetry.  
  
distribution: Jinni, Paula - anyone else just ask.  
  
notes: this takes place  
  
11:36  
  
"Ugghhh... Anyanka, I don't understand how you can stand this place." The voice was deepish and filled with disapproval.  
  
"Lots of people willing to spend money, and a wonderful orgasm-friend." She smiled as she looked over at her colleague.  
  
"There is more to life than money and sex." He was frowning, or maybe it was just that he always looked and sounded disapproving.  
  
"Not anything fun." Anya shrugged. "You do realize that D'Hoffryn fired me, right? I can't do the vengeance wishes anymore."  
  
"I'm not here on business. It was simply a gesture of courtesy, since I happened to be in the area anyhow." Samhatten shrugged, his beak tightened with annoyance.  
  
"What brings you out there then?" Anya asked, curious. Sam normally spent his time in New York, Philadelphia... all the old centers of patriotism.  
  
"Kermit and his associates are making a movie." His voice was filled with dismay. "A musical movie."  
  
"A musical?" Anya winced, thinking of all the bad musicals made in the history of Broadway. "Is it any good?"  
  
"Well... the whole lot of them are rather good at music, dance and a rather low and crude sort of physical humor." He sighed, and glanced at the selection of New Age books on the shelves. "Past lives? Crystal Power? Ugghhh."  
  
"It covers the rent." Anya shrugged, sharing his idea of the ridiculousness of the whole concept.  
  
"So, you're adjusting fairly well to your change in situation?" He sounded almost concerned. Actually, he probably was concerned, being one of the few Vengeance demons who looked at a broader, less personal picture.  
  
"There are definite down sides, but it's... I'm coping. I don't like it, but I'm coping." She sighed, looking at her hands. "I have paper cuts."  
  
"I'd bring you back if I could, you know. But that is well beyond my ability, and the chances of a large enough coincidental overlap..." He shook his head.  
  
"Do you even get much work lately? I mean, being the Patron Saint of..." Anya started to ask.  
  
Jingling bells at the door signaled the arrival of a flock of college students. Hopefully they would spend a lot of money on some of those ridiculous books, but they did end the shoptalk.  
  
Anya reminded herself to smile as the girls fluttered over the books, the candles, and the incense... She smiled a bit more easily as she rang up the first one's purchases, but then they lingered, the rest apparently unable to make up their minds to spend their money here as they fingered the wares.  
  
"err, Anya? You are aware that there's a rather unhappy looking gray figure?" Giles murmured, tilting his head towards Sam.  
  
"Yes, I know. He's... I guess a former co-worker, from my last job. Purely here by coincidence, and it's not job-related." She smiled, still glad that he was willing to give her this job. And not just because of the money aspect, though that was helpful.  
  
"From... But that would make him..." Giles trailed off, not saying any incrimination and alarming words out loud. Instead, he made this sort of humming sound, and began to polish his glasses. "Fascinating, quite fascinating."  
  
"Yeah, I suppose. To me, he's just Sam." Anya shrugged, still not quite into the human mindset where meeting another vengeance demon was unusual. Except that she wasn't a vengeance demon anymore, but just a human woman again. Damn.  
  
"Somehow, I doubt that everyone considers him to be 'just Sam'. Considering your former line of work..." Giles sighed, and put the glasses back on.  
  
"Well, no. But he keeps a more normal profile than I did. I lurked away... well, I was so busy going from wish to wish that I didn't have time for another life. He's got more time between calls." Anya sighed, still uncertain if she envied his time between jobs or not. Did he get bored?  
  
"What should I call him?" Giles asked, his face having that look that said he was mentally reviewing his books.  
  
As the last of the college girls left - without making any more purchases, Anya sighed. "He's Samhatten, the Patron Saint of Patriots. Any time someone is betrayed by their leaders, or acts against their homeland's well-being, it's his job."  
  
"The Patron Saint of...?" Giles blinked, looking at her as if he wondered if she was serious. "I didn't even know that there was someone for that."  
  
"It's a tough job, but someone has to do it." He sounded almost smug. "It's been good to see you Anya, but I have a pig and a frog to keep out of trouble."  
  
11:53.  
  
end Just a Courtesy. 


	16. Forrest: Uncle Winston

author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg13  
  
main character: Forrest  
  
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to Forrest, the creation of Joss Whedon for the series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'. I hold no legal rights to Winston Zeddemore and the movie Ghostbusters, written by Dan Akroyd & Harold Ramis.  
  
distribution: Jinni, Paula - anyone else just ask.  
  
notes: this takes place before season 4 BtVS, after the movie Ghostbusters.  
  
9:45  
  
Forrest grinned, leaning back in the chair as he contemplated his new assignment. He'd just finished his training, and would finally be sent to a posting, finally be doing real work for the military. And his first assignment was the Initiative project. The government's crack team of demon and monster hunters. It was going to be...  
  
Well, dangerous, and probably frightening. He'd be risking his life to face the supernatural, and getting a little paycheck and medical coverage. At least he had job security, and wouldn't have to cover building repairs. And the insurance rates had to be better than...  
  
Oh, he'd have to tell Uncle Winston all about this. His mother's brother was his favorite uncle, after all. He'd be out hunting demons, here was no way that he couldn't share this. Except... He wasn't supposed to write the actual words and send it, because the whole thing was classified. People would probably panic if the word got out that demons and vampires were real.  
  
Just like the people of New York had freaked out about ghosts. But that had led to his uncle getting his job, so that wasn't too bad. He'd be hunting demons instead of ghosts, and using rifles and tazers instead of a proton accelerator, but...  
  
Assigned a similar line of work to that of you and your colleagues, but with more tangible foes. Yes, that would be the way to describe it. More tangible, but every bit as weird. He remembered some of the files that his uncle had shown him. He had very vivid memories of the old firehouse that had been the original Ghostbusters office before they'd had to move. He could remember watching his uncle talk about their jobs, cleaning the ghost traps, charging the proton accelerators that worked by some weird process that Egon had developed... It had been great.  
  
Probably fairly dangerous for a kid to be hanging around, actually, but fun. And now, he'd be taking up hunting and busting the more physical side of things. Demons instead of ghosts, vampires instead of poltergeists. Charging towards danger to save the public from the weird shit that they didn't want to think about.  
  
Yeah, he was definitely a Zeddemore, even if only on his mom's side.  
  
Slowly, he started to write out the letter, figuring out ways to pass the information through despite the certain words that he wasn't supposed to use. His uncle would understand, and know that he shouldn't talk about the details. Maybe Egon would even be able to develop something useful...   
  
Forrest wondered what a Proton Accelerator would do to a vampire anyhow. Would it stun them like a tazer, or cause them to burst into flames? Would it hold them like a ghost? Could they be trapped like a spirit? Unlikely that he'd ever find out, actually. And he was being sent all the way to California...  
  
Smiling, he picked up the phone and dialed the number.  
  
:You've reached the Ghostbusters, how may i help you?: Janine's voice sounded a bit tired, and bored.  
  
"Hey, beautiful. Can I talk to Uncle Winston?" He could feel himself smiling as he talked to her, part of him feeling fourteen years old again.  
  
:Forrest, hey. Hang on a moment, he's just got back.: There was a pause, and he could hear her call out 'Winston! Call on line two, it's Forrest.' :He'll be right on.:  
  
"Thanks." He could tell that he was grinning like a loon.  
  
:Forrest, how're you doing?" His uncle's voice was cheerful, though a bit tired.  
  
"Good. I just found out my assignment. I'm going to California. Sun, surf, and California girls."  
  
:Don't do anything I wouldn't do. And be careful about some of those girls... Sometimes the hot ones are bad for you.: His uncle teased.  
  
"Yeah, nothing you wouldn't. I'm good with that. They should be keeping me busy, and maybe when I get leave, we can compare notes about hardware."  
  
:Really? Sounds like you got something more interesting than accounting then.: Uncle Winston teased.  
  
"Oh yeah. I'll send you a postcard when I get there." He wondered if he'd be able to smuggle a Proton pack back with him next time he visited, and dismissed the idea. Those were jealously guarded.  
  
:I'll look forward to it then. Do you know what town?:  
  
"Some little place called Sunnydale. I checked the map, it's got a beach." Forrest frowned, thinking that there was something just a little too perfect sounding about the place. "It sounds... nice."  
  
:Be damn sure that you're careful then. If it's as nice as it sounds, why do they need a military presence?: His uncle's question was filled with suspicion.  
  
"I really don't know. Maybe I should try to figure that one out." Forrest frowned, thinking that might actually explain some of his nervousness. Why did a 'sleepy little town' need a top secret team of demon hunters?  
  
His uncle chuckled, and added. :Make sure you don't just watch from the beach. There's a lot more to life than sand, surf and sun.:  
  
"Sure. Wish me luck?" He nodded, knowing that his uncle couldn't see him.  
  
:Of course I wish you luck. You're my favorite nephew.:  
  
"Thanks". Forrest smiled as he hung up the phone.  
  
10:06  
  
end Uncle Winston. 


	17. Anne: A Little Talk

author: Lucinda

rating: pg? Pg13?

main character: Anne, Urs

disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to Anne, the creation of Joss Whedon for the series 'Buffy the Vampire SLayer'. I hold no legal rights to Urs, the creation of whoever holds the rights to the series 'Forever Knight'.

distribution: Jinni, Paula - anyone else just ask.

notes: this takes place after Divia killed Vachon, and after Anne has her house for runaways.

10:11

"I don't think that she's eating. At all." The whisper was accompanied by Kelly's fingers twitching against the wall in an uneven tapping, and her eyes glancing everywhere, refusing to settle on anything.

Glancing at the list of other thing that people had brought to her attention about the quiet blond, Anne sighed. "I'll look into it."

The page had a few notes. Tommy said that she spent the day shut into that tiny room, with the light out. This was more alarming because the room had probably been intended as a closet, considering that it was a tiny space tucked under a staircase and entirely windowless. Barbie thought that Urs was sneaking out at night to turn tricks. Pete and Maria had seen her drinking from a bottle.

10:14

10:26

Anne tore the page from the notebook and started towards the closet-room. She would just have to have a little talk with Urs... This wasn't a place for prostitutes or drug addicts, even if the drug of choice was alcohol. And if Urs was involved with something, then somebody would have to deal with the woman. Once upon a time, she'd thought it would be great to be somebody.

It felt like no time at all before she was standing in front of the door. Her hand was shaking as she reached out to tap on it. "Urs? I think we need to have a talk."

There was a pause, and then the click of the light chain being pulled. The door opened, revealing the curvaceous blonde woman. "Right... What's up, Anne?"

Anne stepped inside, leaning against the wall of the highest side. Considering Urs, she had to admit that the woman didn't look as if she was starving, not with those curves. "Some of the others have mentioned a few things... I'm worried."

"What things?" Urs asked, leaning at a slightly greater angle.

"You aren't coming to meals with everyone else. And someone thinks she saw you sneaking out at night." Anne hoped that things wouldn't get ugly.

"It's complicated." Urs sighed, and almost seemed to sag a little. "I came here to get away from the memories of... there."

"Are you... are you using drugs? Or having sex for money?" Anne asked, deciding to just get to the point.

"No. Not for a very long time." Urs sighed. "I... Well, I shouldn't tell you any of it, but you already know enough that this won't change too much."

"What do I know?" Anne almost didn't want to hear the answer.

"About demons and vampires being real." Urs sighed again. "It's complicated, and you might want to sit down."

"I know that part." Anne replied, sliding down the wall. This wasn't how she'd figured the talk would go.

"Not all vampires are the same. Most places, they aren't like the ones I've seen here. We're smarter, more controlled." Urs sighed, her fingers worrying at a thin spot on her jeans.

"We?" Anne knew that she'd regret asking.

"I'm a vampire. I have been for over a century. My maker... Vachon. He was killed recently, and I couldn't stay there any longer. So, I came here, hoping to... well, to not really think too much for a while. A little time to heal." She was looking at the thin spot, not at Anne.

"Have you been killing people?" The question slipped out. She'd never seen a vampire that seemed so... human.

"No. I've been... With control, you don't have to kill, and a little more and they don't remember anything. They probably think they picked up a cheap thrill." Urs sighed, shaking her head. "Not the best way to go, but... I've been trying to learn what sort of set up LA has, if there's a community. So far, I haven't seen one."

"There isn't. Just... Just Angel, but he's... It's complicated." Anne shook her head. More entanglements with the vampire detective... Joy.

10:39

end A Little Talk.


	18. Ben: Call A Doctor

author: Lucinda

rating: pg13

disclaimer: Ben/Glory are the creation of Joss Whedon. Selene and Michael are from the movie Underworld, which I don't own.

distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, Paula, Mental Wanderings

note: season 5 BtVS, post Underworld the movie. 20 minutes with Ben/Glory response.

11: 50

Ben groaned as he rolled out of his bed. His head was throbbing, and he couldn't remember what he'd done last night to cause it. It almost felt like he time that he'd spent the weekend celebrating his sister's moving out, or his acceptance into the college of medicine, but... He was coming up with a distinct lack of happy memories, even fuzzy ones.

Raising his hand to cradle his aching head, he froze, staring at the ragged chafe marks and bruising that encircled his wrist. It looked bad. Scary and bad and why the hell couldn't he remember what had happened to him?

If there was only someone that he could turn to, to ask for an opinion that wouldn't freak... wait. Maybe his old room-mate? Granted, if he could think straight, he thought that Michael had gone somewhere else for his residency, somewhere far away and cloudy, but... Nope, not thinking of any other options just now.

He staggered out of the bed, his legs feeling incredibly weak and shaky. He almost fell down against the dresser, and fumbled for a shirt, freezing as he saw himself in the mirror. Strange things had been painted on his chest in some sort of flaking green stuff. This was very, very bad.

He made it to the kitchen, and picked up his cell phone. Praying that Michael still had the same cell number that he'd had in college, he hit send.

:Hello? Who is this?" The woman's voice was suspicious, and entirely unfamiliar.

"I'm trying to get a hold of Michael. Do you... is this the right number?" He rubbed at his temple with the other hand, trying to figure out a plan B.

:How do you know Michael?: The suspicion seemed even stronger.

"I went to college with him. About six foot, brown hair that normally needs cut... quiet guy. Is he there? I'm Ben, he was my room-mate."

There was a long pause, and then Michael's voice could be faintly heard. :Selene, I know Ben. He's not part of them, he didn't know anything about it. Give me the phone.:

"Michael?" He whispered, hoping that at least he could have someone else tell him to calm down.

:Ben, what's wrong? You sound terrible.: Michael sounded a lot less hostile than the woman, Selene?

"I don't know. I... I can't remember this weekend." He admitted.

:Not another wild party? You're going to be a doctor, you should know better.: There was a hint of teasing.

"Not a party. I woke up... I can't remember anything, not even going to a party. My wrists... they look like I was chained up somewhere, and I've got stuff painted on me. Funny marks that look like they should be carved into old stone walls."

:You don't remember anything?: Michael sounded more worried now.

"Not a single damn thing! My legs feel like Jello, my wrists are torn up, my head's throbbing, vision's blurry, and I don't know why." Ben closed his eyes, leaning on his arm. "I'm freaking out here."

:Where are you?: Michael asked.

"A town called Sunnydale. In California... remember, I wanted to see the West Coast, maybe learn how to surf?" The throbbing was getting stronger, and his stomach was fluttering, almost like a slowly spasming muscle.

:Sounds like a small town. Are things working out?: There was a hint of wistfulness in Michael's question.

"They were until this." Ben closed his mouth, suddenly feeling as if he was going to throw up. "oh my God..."

:Ben? What's wrong?: Michael demanded.

"I think I'm going to be sick..." Ben collapsed, everything going black and cold.

With a ripple, flesh shifted, reforming into a different shape. Instead of a miserable feeling young man, there was a smiling blond woman picking herself up from the floor.

"Well, that won't be needed." Picking up the phone, she chirped "He can't talk to you anymore... Bye now."

Crushing the small device in her hand, Glorificus looked at herself, noting that her body was only clad in a pair of boxer shorts. "This won't do at all. I need something that looks a bit more... impressive."

Glancing over the small apartment, she frowned. Nothing here was worthy of her, and nothing seemed suitable to wear.

Stalking out the door, she found her path blocked by a larger man, looking over her body with lustful eyes and no respect.

"Hey there..."

Reaching out, she dug her fingers into his skull, feeding on the pattern of his mind. "I feel better now."

Pulling off his jacket, she shrugged before putting it on. "I need some better clothing. And a better place to stay."

Elsewhere, Michael was staring at his cell phone, listening to the crackle of static. "Something's terribly wrong in Sunnydale."

"Your friend is in trouble?" Selene asked.

"Yeah."

12:10

end Call a Doctor.


	19. Giles: Taken Away

Author: Lucinda

Rating: pg

Main character: Rupert Giles

Disclaimer: Giles, Andrew, Warren and Jonathan belong to Joss Whedon's series BtVS. Sarah and Jareth are from the movie Labyrinth.

Distribution: Jinni, Mental Wanderings, anyone else ask.

Notes: 20 minutes with Giles, set in season 6 BtVS, post Labyrinth.

11: 48

In the basement, Andrew looked over at Warren and Jonathan. "Don't you two get it? Buffy is almost useless without someone to direct her. She's like a loaded weapon, the real danger is in who's aiming her."

"And just who is aiming her? Because she's pretty effective." Warren grumbled.

"Rupert Giles." Andrew smiled, feeling triumphant. "And I have a plan to get rid of him."

Jonathan just groaned.

Across Sunnydale, there was a gust of wind, and a scattering of silver dust was left in the suddenly empty apartment of Rupert Giles, curtains fluttering sadly.

"What the..." Giles spun around, glaring at the assortment of little goblins that were lurking around the room. "Why am I here?"

"Rupert... you know how it works. You know exactly how it works. Some twerp wished you away, so here you are." The smug voice could only belong to one entity.

"Yes, yes... I know the rules." With a sigh, Rupert pulled the glasses from his face, tucking them neatly into his pocket. "On the bright side, this does spare me from hearing yet another episode of that appalling show."

Chuckling, Jareth shook his head. "Come on, sit down, have a peach."

Accepting, Rupert bit deeply into the succulent fruit. "They're better here than anywhere else."

"Of course they are." The Goblin King sounded almost offended, and smiled again. "So, are you still playing at being a Watcher?"

"I wouldn't call it playing. Buffy has done some very important things." He shook his head, wondering if this would lead to yet another argument.

"Buffy? Who names their daughter Buffy?" There was a chuckle, and a flicker of magic as a crystal globe formed, showing an image of Buffy Summers, currently patrolling in a cemetery.

"Actually..." Rupert commented, "I'm more curious about who wanted me gone."

"Pffft." With a dismissive gesture, another globe was formed, showing three young men in a basement, surrounded by an astonishing assortment of clutter. "One of those three."

"I suppose I'll have to deal with them later." He sighed, letting the globe float up, and creating another two before starting to juggle them. "How have things been here?"

"About the same, actually. Nobody particularly interesting since that girl Sarah, and just... goblins squabbling and tracking mud into the hall." A small shrug. "Has your father stopped repressing yet?"

"No." Rupert smirked, the memory bright in his mind. "He's still firmly insisting that mother just comes from a quiet family in the country. A bit eccentric, but... human. I don't think he's bothered trying to explain why her family never sends Christmas cards."

"I'll never understand what she sees in him." The crystal sphere began to circle on its own as Jareth bit into a peach. "Why not someone less stuffy, or at least more accepting?"

Smiling, Rupert looked over, offering up something that Buffy had once said. "In the words of Buffy, Love makes you do the wacky. I think it means that love causes strange things, and is often inexplicable."

"Absolutely." Scowling, another bite was torn from the peach. "You should visit more often."

"I've been busy." Rupert mumbled, feeling oddly guilty.

"Busy. I shouldn't have to answer someone' s wish to visit my grandson!" Jareth glared at him, one hand drumming against the chair. "Why don't you teach that red head a few useful things, and leave her there to keep an eye on things for a few days. You could come here and stay a while."

"Willow is powerful, but she often lacks wisdom." Rupert sighed. "Unpredictable things could happen... again."

"You say that as if unpredictability is a bad thing." Jareth chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't get too human on me."

"Yes, well... Over a Hellmouth, unpredictable is almost always bad. And I've been trying to keep anyone from figuring out that I'm not simply a stuffy British Watcher."

"You're my grandson, and born to a portion of Fae power. You should be able to deal with anything that place can throw at you."

"The physical hasn't been the problem." Rupert sighed finishing his peach. "It's the emotional that gets to me."

"Ahhh... isn't it always." Jareth sighed, tossing another peach towards his grandchild. "Well, at least I've got you here for a while."

"But... you aren't going to turn me into a goblin." Rupert frowned, not quite glaring.

"Don't be silly. But there are rules, and you, my boy, are here for the next twelve and three quarter hours. So... how have things been lately?" Jareth smiled, a goblet of something dark amber appearing in his hand.

"Yes, that might be long enough to catch up on everything...." Rupert sighed.

12: 08.

end Taken Away.


	20. Dennis: Spring Walk

Author: Lucinda

Rating: pg/pg13

Main character: Dennis

Disclaimer: Dennis and his mother are the creation of Joss Whedon for Angel: the Series. Amanda is a character from Highlander the series, a Davis/Panzer production.

Distribution: Mental Wanderings, Jinni – anyone else ask first.

Note: 20 minutes with Dennis, set decades before Angel moved to LA.

1:16

He still found it hard to believe that he'd ever met such a wonderful woman. Amanda was everything that he'd ever dared to hope for: beautiful, charming, interesting, she'd traveled and seen the world, and she had this way of looking at him that made him feel just... It made him understand how knights had been willing to die for their ladies in the Middle Ages. She was wonderful.

"Hey tiger." Her arms slid around him, and he could feel her lips brush against his shoulder.

"Amanda... You look great." he smiled, turning so that he could see her eyes taking in the ivory sundress that skimmed over her body.

"Why thank you, Dennis." She smiled back, tucking her dark hair behind her ear.

"You always look great." He leaned forward, kissing her cheek.

"Such a gentleman.... Here I thought that gentlemen were an extinct species." She looped her arm through his, pulling him along to walk beside her.

"Ahh..... But Amanda, you always look beautiful. Only a blind man wouldn't notice it." He could feel himself blushing.

"Charmer."

Dennis didn't argue, but he felt anything but the polished charmer. He was shy, he'd never had much luck with dating, and it just didn't quite seem real that he'd met Amanda, that she enjoyed his company. She was smoothly graceful, and lovely, and he just felt all gawky and awkward.

"Only with you, my lovely lady." He finally managed.

She giggled, and for a while, they just walked in the park, enjoying the fresh air. Robbins and sparrows fluttered over the ground, hidden songbirds chirped in the trees, and grass was growing into hide all the bare patches. Here and there, flowers struggled to sprout from the ground.

"Isn't spring grand? The fresh air after a long, stuffy winter?" He asked, watching as she watched everything. Amanda was much more interesting than the park.

"It's nice not to be cooped up anymore." Her lips curved into a mysterious smile. "I like to be able to get out and go places."

"Yeah." He could still feel her hand on his arm, warm and wonderful.

"Dennis? Do you think that it's time to meet your family?" She seemed almost nervous, glancing away and then not quite back to his eyes. "Unless you're trying to hide me away for yourself..."

"Well..." Dennis floundered, uncertain how to answer. "I kind of like the idea of having you all to myself. Picture it... you, me, the ocean, an empty beach..."

"Fruity drinks with paper umbrellas in them?" She teased, one eyebrow lifting.

"Why not? If you like that sort, I mean..." Dennis smiled at her, his mind already picturing her in a swimsuit, lounging beside him on a towel.

"I like that image." Her words were soft, almost as if she wasn't certain they should be out loud. "How did I find such a nice guy?"

"Luck?" He offered, feeling flattered and vaguely embarrassed by her high opinion of him.

"You're sweet." she kissed him, her body pressing against him as her arms slid around his shoulders.

"Dennis held her, kissing back as his mind went delightfully blank.

"So, when should I meet your family?"

Her words broke the pleasant fog. "uhh... family... meeting. Right. It's just my mother... Father died years ago."

"I think I should meet her. After all, I am planning to steal her son away to take to a nice, secluded beach." Her smile was filled with temptation.

"Maybe I should break the news to her first? Tell her that you want to meet her?" Dennis smiled. "I'm sure that she'll love you."

"Why? You're her darling boy." Amanda sounded almost worried.

"Well... because I do." He stammered.

"Ohh..." Amanda kissed him again.

That night, Dennis looked at his mother, feeling a bit of worry. How could he bring his sweet Amanda home to meet his mother? She ran things like a tyrant, and kept trying to run his life.

He thought that she might be unhappy, or frustrated that he was tying to make his own life, one away from her control. Maybe some shouting, the accusation of 'how could you leave me all alone?'

The idea that she might seal him up into the wall never even occurred to him.

Of course, if it had, then many things would have unfolded very differently.

1:36

end Spring Walk


	21. A Normal Life: Riley Finn

Author: Lucinda

Rated safe for most everyone. If you could watch the show enough to know who they are, this is certainly safe for you.

Main Characters: Riley Finn, Marilyn

Disclaimer: Riley Finn is the creation of Joss Whedon & his writers for the series BtVS. Marilyn is from 'the Munsters', and while I'm not sure who has the legal rights to her and the show, I know it isn't me.

Distribution: Twisting, Mental Wanderings, or by request.

Notes: 20 minutes with Riley challenge ( #952). AU post Sunnydale Initiative, obviously.

8:29

Riley smiled as they walked down the path, Marilyn's hand held in his. He was happy now, in a way that he couldn't recall being in years. He was taking classes at the local college, he was free of the Initiative and the chaos, danger and nightmares of being under the command of someone who wanted to hunt demons and play God with their soldiers, and life was good, though not quite perfect. He'd met Marilyn in his history class, and... Well, they hadn't exactly hit things off immediately, he'd thought that she was rather quiet and a bit old fashioned, and she'd thought him to be a rather dumb jock hanging out trying to make a living on sports.

He was thankful for that project in his second quarter. They'd been paired up to work on it, and he'd gotten to know her better. And now...

"Thinking happy thoughts?" her voice was soft and as smooth ads the pearls on her necklace.

"Thinking about how we got together," Riley offered. "And life is good."

"My family wants to meet you. I think Uncle Herman's worried that you're trying to take advantage of me."

"Ah, but I've already taken advantage of your superior knowledge of the area to figure out the best places for ice cream," Riley tried to imitate a suave villain, and wiggled his eyebrows.

Giggling, Marilyn swatted at his arm. "Silly. They're just worried about me, that's all. I just seem to... well, none of my boyfriends wanted to stick around very long."

"Rob said your family was strange, Carl said that your uncle is a giant, Andrew said that your cousin's pet tried to eat him. I would like to think I'm a bit braver than they are," Riley offered.

"We managed to pull Spot off before there was any permanent damage," Marilyn was blushing.

"Reassuring," Riley murmured, wondering just what sort of pet 'Spot' was anyhow. The name didn't really help.

If we're going to keep dating, won't I have o meet your family eventually? I mean, it's not like I'd expect you to drop everyone that you've ever known and move away with me, never to see your family again. That would be foolish of me."

"You'd be surprised about some people," Marilyn muttered darkly.

"I've already had a few ugly surprises from life," Riley commented, remembering Sunnydale. Absently, he wondered how his life would have been if he'd stayed in the service after that, but let it go. He'd made his choice, and life would go on.

"Uncle Herman wanted to know if we could stop in tonight. Just sort of a quick hello at work, he wasn't trying to drag you over for dinner or anything."

"You said he works at a funeral parlor, right? I guess we could stop in for a few minutes," Riley said, wondering what sort of person her uncle would be. Probably tall, considering Rob, but would he be a nice guy, like Marilyn? "Am I going to get some variation of the you'd better treat my little girl right or else' speech?"

"Not from Uncle Herman," Marlin grinned, 'that would be Grandpa."

Riley nodded as they reached the funeral parlor. He was starting to think that there was something that she wasn't telling him, some sort of little secret, and he hoped desperately that it wouldn't be a disaster, like the last girlfriend with a major secret. Please don't let Marilyn be like Buffy, please...

She opened the door, and tugged him inside. The cloying scent of too many flowers filled the air, and he could see several rooms with rows of uncomfortable seats and dark couches. It looked like they were in the middle of either setting up or taking down after a service.

"Uncle Herman?" Marilyn called," We're here. You wanted to meet Riley?"

"Of course I did." The voice was a mild tenor, with a faint accent that Riley couldn't place. "You kept talking about him over breakfast."

Riley blinked at the silhouette filling the doorway. 'Giant' made a lot more sense now - the man had to be close to seven feet tall, with broad shoulders. Stepping into the light was...

He looked like a Boris Karloff Frankenstein monster. Or the low-tech version of ADAM.

Riley blinked, wondering if he really saw what he thought he saw... Yes, her uncle was still really tall, with stitches holding him together, and a pair of bolts in the side of his neck. Several places, his skin didn't quite match, though it was hard to be certain with the greenish cast. Riley breathed slowly, trying to remain calm.

He should have known that things seemed far too calm.

Trying to smile, he held out his hand. "Hello, sir. I've heard good things about you, I'm Riley Finn. I've been dating your niece."

Riley's hand was engulfed in a near-crushing grip, and the taller man beamed at him, showing yellowed teeth. "Good to meet you. You'll have to come over for dinner sometime, we've been curious about you."

Marilyn was hovering nearby, her hands twisting together with a small smile. She seemed to be worried about something, and shuffled her feet a little. "I hope Grandpa isn't trying to scare him away..."

Riley decided not to try to rub the feeling back in his hand, or ask if 'uncle Herman' had any connections to secret military projects. "It might be nice to meet Marilyn's family. I can tell how important you are to her, Mr. Munster."

The expression on her uncle's face, with the yellowed teeth and the square jaw could have been terrifying except that it was the largest sheepish grin that Riley had ever seen. "That's good to know. I'll have to talk to Lily and find out what would be a good night... Do you have classes Friday nights? That might work..."

Riley conceded that his life would never be normal again. Glancing at Marilyn, he decided that maybe normal was over-rated.

8:49

end A Normal Life.


End file.
